


Sexing Up the Nurse

by Quiet_Shadow



Series: The Wetnurse [4]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Breastfeeding, Captivity, Dubious Consent, M/M, Mpreg, Restraints, Slash, Sticky Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-26
Updated: 2013-01-26
Packaged: 2017-11-27 00:35:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/656054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quiet_Shadow/pseuds/Quiet_Shadow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hot Rod finds himself in an uncomfortable situation as his systems are heating up and he craves reflief through interfacing. Soundwave is only too happy to help him...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sexing Up the Nurse

**Author's Note:**

> Fourth part in the 'Wetnurse' series, and finally some action between Soundwave and Hot Rod :)
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> Warnings: Implied slash (Springer/Hot Rod), sticky sex (Soundwave/Hot Rod), dubcon, mpreg, non consensual breastfeeding by giant robots...

Hot Rod turned and turned again, shifting uneasily. His chains emitted soft ‘clicks’ as he tried to find a more comfortable position on Soundwave’s large berth. Ever since Soundwave had left earlier to Primus knew where, and ever since he had last fed the Cassettes, the red and yellow mech had started to feel… restless. Forced immobility never was his forte, but he had more or less gotten used to it since the beginning of his captivity. But usually, his systems weren’t acting up like now, making him twitch if he stayed still more than a klik. Worse, he could feel his systems heating up slowly, most notably in his groin area. And that simple fact terrified him, because he knew very well what it meant.

Heightened interface drive was just one the multiples inconveniences that accompanied a carrying period. Not that he had realized that before. When he had been much younger and still growing among a Neutral colony which had been destroyed since, Hot Rod couldn’t help but notice and watch more or less closely how it affected expecting couples. If he had been explained that a rounding middle indicated someone was going to have a sparkling, i.e. a new playmate for him, he hadn’t understood, back then, why some of the carrying adults around him and their significant others were disappearing together for joors. That’s it, until he walked on some of them being too… occupied to notice he was there. Welcome to Interface 101, kid. But nobody had ever clearly stated the craving for contact that came with the carrying process. Probably because they thought it was obvious.

Carrying mechs enjoyed being touched; be it being patted, being caressed, being massaged, holding the hand of a lover, or leaning against someone, touch helped to sooth them. Perhaps it was why Hot Rod never really tried to push Soundwave away when he led besides him on the berth, with an arm firmly holding him against his own body. Perhaps it also was the reason he couldn’t help now but lean a bit more against Soundwave each time the blue mech helped straightening him up while Rumble and Frenzy sucked on his pouches.

And carrying mechs… enjoyed touch most through interfacing.

The heat was a clear sign Hot Rod’s body was more than ready for a quick, or rather a long interface, with anybody; a coupling or more to gather more transfluid inside him, for the bettering of the sparkling still developing frame, and to reinforce the fledging bond between newspark and creators by the proximity of their frames. Technically, the added transfluid didn’t even had to be from the main progenitor; the carrier’s body just craved the nanites it would give him. At this part of the pregnancy, it wouldn’t harm the sparkling to receive nanites which didn’t originate from his Sire. At the most, it would give him some additional traits inherited from whoever provided the new nanites, usually some added paint streaks or things of the like.

Technically, a Decepticon would do, he supposed, since nobody else was available here. But Hot Rod didn’t want just anybody: whatever his body wanted, his processor was fixated on Springer. And his absence, enforced by Hot Rod’s captivity, made the situation crueler. Hot Rod’s frame longed for his lover touch. He wanted Springer next to him. He wanted Springer’s hands on his hips, his fingers playing with his cables and diving into his seams. He wanted his lips on his owns, Springer’s lips kissing him everywhere, from the inside of his thighs to the outer rim of his valve, that he would then tease with his glossa…

A soft moan escaped his lips as he thought about it. His panel was heating up marginally by the minute, and he had to make a conscious effort to keep it closed. Had he been on the Ark, where Springer and he were supposed to be stationed, they would have just taken a room and some cycles off. Other Autobots would tease them about that, but it would have been alright, because they were friends. But here he was, captive on the Nemesis because a disputable father-figure had decided his horde needed the comfort procured by nursing. His captivity had his low and highs points. At least he was well-fed, and Soundwave was protective of him to the point of almost ripping Vortex’s hand off when he had tried to make a grab at Hot Rod in the hallway once. But there were more downsides than upsides to the situation. Even trussed up like he was, had Hot Rod been alone, it wouldn’t have been so bad; he could have found a way to… pleasure himself, and gains some relief. But unfortunately, despite Soundwave’s absence, he was far from alone. He glances quickly to the side.

Perched onto Soundwave’s desk, his guardian for the day, Buzzsaw, head tilted to the side, was watching him with attention. He made a noise of inquiry at the Autobot’s restless shifting. Hot Rod blushed and hid his face into a pillow, refusing to look at the Cassette, who continued sending pings at him. Hot Rod just moaned softly and tried to press a pillow between his legs, shifting it with his knees.

He felt more and more ill-at-ease, more and more aroused, and with his hands still bound behind his back and his ankles tied together, he couldn’t even do anything to relieve himself. And there was no way, absolutely no way he was going to just open his panel and reveal his most intimate areas to Buzzsaw’s optics. His pouches were a thing, his valve and spike quite another. But he could feel his spike starting to expand behind his closed panel, and from the corner of his optics, he saw a few drops of lubricant drip through the seam and stains the interior of his left thigh.

“Oh Primus,” he moaned, feeling tears pooling up in his optics, as he frantically tried to hide the evidence with a pillow.

Just outside the door, he heard the noise of a mech’s rapid footsteps, and he also heard the frantic entering of a security code before the door slide back, allowing a familiar blue mech inside. Buzzsaw crooned with joy. Hot Rod just stared.

“A…already back?” he managed to choke out as the door locked behind Soundwave. “Wasn’t… expecting you… just yet. It hadn’t been a whole work shift already… had it?”

Soundwave looked at him attentively for a breem before coming closer to him and sit on the edge of the berth. Hot Rod flinched.

“Buzzaw:” contacted Soundwave. “Indicated unusual behavior on Autobot Hot Rod’s part. Scan: showed unusual vitals and statistics. Possible occurrence suspected: early emergence of the sparkling. Soundwave: concerned.”

“Oh,” murmured Hot Rod, glancing at Buzzsaw. “I hadn’t… realized he could scan me. But the sparkling isn’t for now… You… you don’t need to be here. I’m… fine.”

Soundwave didn’t answer. Instead, he looked at Hot Rod and firmly pushed away the pillow the prisoner had managed to press against him.

“Autobot Hot Rod: sexually aroused,” stated Soundwave matter-of-factly, hand sliding up the Autobot’s leg and diving between his thighs to rub against the red and yellow mech’s interface panel.

Hot Rod moaned and threw his head back at the contact. “Th… Thank you for stating the obvious!” he blurted out, trying to curl onto his side, feeling humiliated.

Under his mask, he knew Soundwave had to be smirking. Hot Rod tried to muster his hatred and anger against the other mech, but found out he just… couldn’t. Not when Soundwave’s hand against his heating panel felt so cool and so good. Not when he started crying and he knew, just knew the SIC felt the littlest be concerned by his sudden mood swing.

“Autobot Hot Rod: feeling all right?” His hand left the Autobot’s interface panel and went to cup the red and yellow mech’s face, while the other traced soothing circles over his stomach plates.

“No… no I don’t,” whispered Hot Rod between two sobs. “It hurts…” he moaned.

Soudwave patted him gently. “Autobot Hot Rod: should open his panel,” he stated. Hot Rod gave him a horrified look, and Soundwave realized he had made a bad move.

Autobots were such sensitive, prude things; most of them wouldn’t have interfaced in public, for example. Ever since Hot Rod had been in his hands, he had started to relax around him, and most of his moral objections had eased, helped by his constant feeding of the Cassettes and Soundwave obvious care of him and his unborn sparkling. Nowadays, Soundwave didn’t even have to hack his systems to have him open his chestplaces: the yellow and red Autobot did it of his own volition. But Hot Rod, in the midst of arousal and denial of what it should entail, seemed to have reverted back to classical, prudish Autobot thinking.

Of course, Soundwave couldn’t totally blame him. Despite his acceptation of Soundwave’s rules and a slight, still-developing attachment to Soundwave himself and his Cassettes, Hot Rod was still an enemy soldier. A prisoner. Not a contracted wet-nurse and occasional lover for Soundwave, like the ones he used to have back on Cybertron before the war. With his usual choice of wet-nurses, he could have ordered them to walk around with bare components or interface with him on regular basis, and they would have done so, because they were paid for it and it was part of their contract.

But now… Forcing someone to spread his legs for him would have been inane. What pleasure was there to have when your lover cried when you touched him and screamed in fear and panic at the smallest move you made? Of course, they were at war; rape, though it wasn’t something Soundwave entirely condoned, was just one of many tools to get information out of prisoners. The blue mech wasn’t exactly proud to say he had to commit such acts to further secure the future victory of the Decepticons army.

Hot Rod needed to interface; his systems were begging for it, and refusing to submit to his base programming would cause harm to him and the still-developing infant. Had it been someone he had not invested so much into, Soundwave would have just flipped him over despite protest and do what needed to be done. But he couldn’t do that to Hot Rod. Especially not while he was carrying; it would cause stress, and stress would be harmful to the still developing sparkling. And harm to the sparkling was unadvisable, for a number of reasons. Mainly, because if Hot Rod miscarried, his systems would immediately lock his feeding lines to conserve energy for more important, vital systems; it would ruin the best wet-nurse his Cassettes had in vorns.

But also, Soundwave wasn’t a total monster, and he didn’t want to plan the intentional death of a sparkling if circumstances allowed another outcome. Razing cities with their citizens, mechs, femmes and younglings had been necessary to prove the superiority of the Decepticons. Provoking the death of Hot Rod’s sparkling would be… pointless. And his Cassettes would bitch at him for losing their favorite new toy.

Of course, should Hot Rod lose his sparkling anyway, Soundwave could always try to sire another himself with him as soon as the mech had recuperated instead of handing him over to the Autobots as he was supposed to. Technically, nothing could stop him from doing just that: Hot Rod held no valuable information, and whatever he knew was obsolete; he was just one mere foot soldier, with the (dis)advantage of being sparked. As much as the Autobots valued every single life, they just couldn’t mount a rescue operation just like that.

And, anyway, he had said to Hot Rod he would be released after the birth and weaning of his sparkling. Which sparkling had never been précised. Hot Rod could very well birth a healthy sparkling, and Soundwave would help raise him or her… while making sure Hot Rod carried another.

Soundwave certainly wouldn’t have minded having Hot Rod lying in his arms while being heavy with his future child; the Autobot was kind of cute with his big abdomen, and if anything, it would have procured him with a legitimate reason to not release the red and yellow mech and keep him around without having to put up with snide comments and disgruntled mechs who certainly didn’t approve holding a sparked mech hostage. If the sparkling was his, nobody could say anything and it wouldn’t compromise his tenure as SIC.

Or perhaps, still in the case of a miscarriage, he could get another Autobot to spark up Hot Rod again? Now, that certainly would be more realizable. Just not yet, he supposed. Maybe, once the war was over and the Decepticons victorious, Soundwave could ask to keep Hot Rod to himself as permanent wet-nurse and, since Hot Rod loved him so much and provided he survived, request Springer as a stud for him to keep his additional feeding lines active or, if the green Autobot had feeding lines too, another possible wet-nurse for his Cassettes and himself…

But it was wistful thinking, and it was most selfish. You couldn’t get sparked if you didn’t drop all your firewalls during interfacing and sparkmerge, and nobody did that unless there was absolute trust and love between the lovers. Hot Rod was deeply in love with the Autobot Springer; chances were high it was reciprocated. Soundwave was just conveniently around, an outlet to physical urges and a reluctantly accepted caretaker.

Emphasize on the ‘accepted’. So far, Soundwave had gone out of his way to make Hot Rod as comfortable as possible. He was still regularly checking his systems himself, doubling Hook’s own checks up, gave him the best energon available (a perk of being an officer), waxed and massaged him himself, helped him practice physical exercises to reduce the tension and stiffness in his ankles, wrists, shoulders and elbows joints… all sort of little things to gain his further trust. Hot Rod had even accepted to nurse him, which was the best proof Soundwave’s method was working.

But would Hot Rod let him ‘face him, to relieve him of the heat accumulating in his frame? He couldn’t be sure. Letting nothing of his musings affect him, he rubbed a thumb against Hot Rod’s face.

“Soundwave: offered his services before,” he enounced carefully, letting Hot Rod remember; he could see recognition in those blue optics, though he couldn’t judge yet if Hot Rod was interested or not. “Proposition: still valid. Autobot Hot Rod: accept?”

Hot Rod didn’t answer, but tried once again to hide his face way, disengaging himself from Soundwave’s touch. The blue mech let him do, surprisingly.

“Soundwave: understands confliction. But Autobot Hot Rod: would feel much better,” he insisted a little but not too much. He didn’t want to pressure Hot Rod into agreeing just yet, because he knew it would prove even more stressful for him once the tension decreased. As he saw Hot Rod hesitate, biting his lips and avoiding Soundwave’s optics, the blue mech insisted a bit more. “Autobot Hot Rod’s body: running too hot. Continued process: will cause harm to many systems, notably gestational chamber’s related ones. Autobot Hot Rod: wish to jeopardize sparkling’s development and life?”

It was a low blow, and Soundwave knew it very well. But it had the expected effect. Hot Rod stilled and glared at him with all his might.

“Don’t you dare say that! Don’t you dare! My sparkling’s life is more important than anything!” he almost shouted.

Soundwave tilted his head. “So Autobot Hot Rod: agrees?” he asked matter-of-factly.

Hot Rod’s cheeks flushed, and once again he avoided Soundwave’s glaze. Soundwave waited. Hot Rod’s optics were brighter than usual, and he could spot some coolant gathering at the edge, ready to fall in drops. Soundwave reached for Hot Rod’s face and cupped one of his cheek in his hand, gently caressing it with his thumb, silent.

Finally, Hot Rod sobbed. Once, twice, thrice, before he muffled them and nodded at Soundwave, not thrusting his voice to agree out loud.

“I’m so, so sorry, Springer…” he thought dejectedly.

Soundwave picked it up, but didn’t comment. Instead, he reached for Hot Rod’s bound ankles and tugged the chains away. Hot Rod parted his legs with evident relief, and gathering himself in a sitting position, brought his knees to his chest, hiding his face against them.

“Can we… can we stay alone, please?” he asked his captor, sending a quick glance at Buzzsaw, who hadn’t moved and was watching them with obvious interest. Soundwave frowned a bit, not seeing why they should hide from one his Cassettes – they had seen him interface quite often. He had nothing to hid or be ashamed of. Of course; Autobots were prudes… But Soundwave thought Hot Rod could be persuaded to stop acting childishly. But right now, the Autobot was shaking, and clearly felt uncomfortable, so Soundwave took pity of his apparent shyness and dismissed Buzzsaw with a quick call on his personal comm. link. Without being told to, and guessing it would be best if they weren’t interrupted, he also send commands for his other Cassettes to not come back to their quarters immediately after their return but wait for Soundwave’s go-ahead.

He explained it to Hot Rod, and was rewarded by a thin, shaky smile, but a smile nonetheless. Well, now that it was taken care of…

Gently, he tugged Hot Rod’s legs apart and pushed him onto his back. His vents worked hard. Retracting his mask, he licked his lips at the feast before him. Hot Rod didn’t try to meet his optics, but it was all right for now. First off, he had to regain his trust, make him feel good. Smoothly, Soundwave started to press kisses to Hot Rod’s abdomen, while his fingers run over his sides, before slowly slid to his hips. Soundwave’s kisses started going lower as well, reaching the pelvic plating and the junction between the pelvis and the thighs. Hot Rod hissed and arched his back as Soundwave’s started using his glossa to lick small areas, searching for hot spots. Soundwave smirked. Sliding his hands under the other mech’s thighs, he lifted them and pulled them apart a little wider, staring almost hungrily at the still closed panel. Despite his evident arousal, Hot Rod had a lot of self control, he noted. In time, he could coax it open by his ministrations, but he doubted Hot Rod would react too well to extended foreplays. Perhaps, another time… But for now, it would be better for the Autobot’s mental health that he rushed things a little.

“Autobot Hot Rod: willing to open his panel?” he asked. Hot Rod shuttered his optics, but let his codpiece open, revealing a half-hardened spike and a valve that, without being dripping with lubricant, seemed already wet. It pleased Soundwave.

Technically, it wasn’t the first time he saw Hot Rod’s valve; as the ‘caretaker’ of Hot Rod, he was the one who got to carry or walk him to the Medbay regularly, and he always stayed when Hook performed his checks ups and exams. The Decepticons’ sort-of-medic had had to perform several valve exams, to ensure it would be able to dilate sufficiently to allow the sparkling’s birth or if he would have to program surgery. So far, all the results indicated a ‘natural’ birth would be possible, and greatly preferred.

There was, however, a big difference between seeing Hot Rod’s bare interface components during the exams, where he had been tense and copious amount of medical lubricants had to be applied before Hook could even push one finger inside, and seeing them now, when the other mech was aroused and (mostly) willing to ‘face with him.

Gently, to not scare the Autobot, he traced the edge of his valve with his glossa, tentatively pushing the tip inside to test the wetness. Hot Rod moaned and shook his head, body writhing a little. Hum, not bad, and almost nearly enough for him to penetrate Hot Rod immediately… But he needed to prepare him a bit better before he filled him up with his spike.

Squirming, Hot Rod bit his lips. “Don’t… don’t tease me,” he gasped as Soundwave’s glossa went deeper inside, trying to get up a little. Soundwave stopped his ministrations, released his thighs and pushed him back on the berth. “Foreplay: necessary for better lubrication. Autobot Hot Rod: uncomfortable with them?”

“Yes… I mean no! I mean…” the red and yellow mech tried to convey of much he would have liked, but couldn’t exactly bring himself to do just that, because Soundwave was… wasn’t the one he really wanted, and he felt pressured, but he felt also so needy and he had to think about the sparkling and it didn’t seem like a sin to just lie back and enjoy what was done to him. Soundwave titled his head to the side and nodded. Yes, he understood, and he didn’t even need his telepathy for that.

Ah, well… Let’s cut the foreplay and go to the main course, then.

First, he made Hot Rod rise up, than helped him to get on his knees. Soundwave then gathered some of the pillows and cushions in a pile, and then gently pushed Hot Rod toward it, encouraging him silently to bend over and let his upper body rest upon the makeshift pile, allowing him to be ’down on all fours’ without using his arms to support his body weight. It also allowed Soundwave a perfect access to the Autobot’s aft. Hot Rod blushed has he realized Soundwave intended to take him ‘doggy style’.

“Why…?” he asked as Soundwave shifted behind him. Large hands gently parted his legs apart before resting on his hips, helping his aft stay upright as Hot Rod tried to find his equilibrium, which was harder to do without his hands to help him and grab the mesh under him.

Understanding the question, he answered. “Position: better for the sparkling. Objective: limit the risk of crushing Autobot Hot Rod’s abdomen,” explained Soundwave. “Position: uncomfortable?” he asked as he saw Hot Rod shift uneasily.

“Would be better if I could rest on my elbows,” answered the younger mech as he tried to get a look over his shoulder at what Soundwave was doing.

The blue mech’s finger run along his back, making Hot Rod arches his spinal strut in answer. “Request: impossible to satisfy as of now. Megatron’s orders: still standing.” Hot Rod sighed but didn’t answer. There was no point, really. At least, he had tried.

“I… might not be able to stay in this position,” he said instead.

“Soundwave: will go slowly. Hands: steady and strong. Will keep Hot Rod from falling down.” the TIC stated as he pressed himself against Hot Rod’s backside. Hot Rod shuddered at the contact, but didn’t add anything more. He wanted it to be over quickly.

Soundwave might have noticed, because without further prompting, he opened his own codpiece. Hot Rod didn’t saw, but he heard the sound of metal sliding over metal, and he felt the length of metal and cables press against his backside. Shuttering his optics and shaking in anticipation and fear, he waited for the moment his valve would be pierced, violated by the ‘Con. But Soundwave didn’t penetrate him yet. Instead, one of his hand left Hot Rod’s hip and disappeared from his body altogether. Hot Rod heard the sound of something being put out of subspace, and the noise of something being opened, before he heard Soundwave sigh in pleasure. And then, he felt a cold, drenched in some unknown substance finger slip into his valve, before a second joined it and started to scissor him.

“What… what are you doing? I thought we wouldn’t do more foreplay?” he asked, feeling nervous and trying desperately not to quiver, mewling a little as the fingers reached some sensor nods deep inside.

Soundwave’s answer was precise and to the point. “Soundwave: unwilling to hurt Autobot Hot Rod with initial penetration. Addition of more lubricant to both parties: will help the intrusion.”

“Oh…” Hot Rod’s shoulders sagged in relief. The fingers made more sense now… He could live with it. Right.

He didn’t know how long Soundwave prepared him like that; it could have been a few breems like a few joors; Hot Rod couldn’t be sure. Soundwave’s touch didn’t feel as invasive as before, and the lubricant he was spreading was cold, and felt wonderfully good against the heated walls of his valve, and he basked too much into the sensation to clearly try and measure the passage of time.

All that he knew was that by some points, the wonderfully cold fingers disappeared, and he keened in anguish at their loss. He clearly heard Soundwave chuckles, making him blush and bite back a curse, before something bigger was pressed inside him, and he threw his head back and cried out in surprise and, to his shame, pleasure.

Soundwave was careful. He eased himself inside Hot Rod’s stretched valve little by little, the gliding greatly facilitated by the lubricant he had spread over his own spike. Hot Rod trembled as Soundwave went deeper into him, and groaned as he was stretched wider. “Springer,” he sobbed as Soundwave sat fully inside him.

Soundwave started to move. Slowly. In and out. Out and in. He withdrew almost all the way before plunging back inside, always with an agonizing slow pace, to give Hot Rod the time to adjust to his girth. The red and yellow mech sobbed in pleasure and asked to be taken harder, faster, and after a while (giving the Autobot’s body the time to really get used to his length), Soundwave was only too happy to oblige. His hands stayed firmly locked onto Hot Rod’s hips, stopping him from falling down even as they both moved.

Hot Rod didn’t resist the lovemaking. Or at least, not physically, but in his mind, he was somewhere else, with someone else. “Springer! Springer! Springer!” he shouted as loudly as he could as Soundwave’s pace quickened.

He knew, oh he knew it wasn’t his lover who was making him love, relieving him of the tension and heat accumulated into his frame. The hard length of metal inside him was shorter but also thicker, and without all the mods Springer had added to his spike to stroke the sensors deep into the valve. It felt unfamiliar. But it felt good all the same, and with his optics shuttered and by concentrating solely on the sensations coursing along his body, Hot Rod could forget for a while just where he was, and with who.

Soundwave stayed impassive as he continued swinging his hips back and forth, rocking Hot Rod’s body alongside his moves. Hot Rod’s valve clenched almost desperately around his spike, and the young Autobot was quite vocal with each thrust hitting the sensors nods deep inside. Another, lesser mech would probably have fled into a fist of rage by now, after hearing his lover call another’s name. But Soundwave was pragmatic, and he understood that Hot Rod needed mental comfort as well as physical one. Soundwave was providing what his body wanted, but Hot Rod’s spark ached for another.

Soundwave wouldn’t have minded procuring the mental comfort as well, but he knew it wasn’t his forte, and it involved more trust than what Hot Rod had allowed him so far. Perhaps, someday, things would be different… But right now, Soundwave concentrated on the pleasurable task at end.

Overload swept through both of them too quickly for Soundwave’s taste.

Hot Rod let himself drop head first onto the pillows pile, feeling both exhausted and livelier than he had been in orns. The heat flooding his systems had partially decreased, and he felt much better than he had felt since the beginning of the day. Shuttering his optics, he let himself drop into a half-recharge, basking into the afterglow of the overload.

Then he felt it: Soundwave’s still hard length, pressing against his backside. His optics went wide.

“A…again?” he sputtered. The Decepticon sure had recovered fast… “Shouldn’t you be… heading back to work?”

Soundwave, pressed against his back, chuckled. “Soundwave; took his afternoon. Presence: more needed here. Autobot Hot Rod: uninterested?” he asked him before nibbling on one of his neck cables. Hot Rod shuddered. “No… go… go ahead,” he said softly, shuttering his optics. He didn’t know why he agreed… sure, he was still feeling rather heated up, but that didn’t mean he just had to let Soundwave frag him again just yet… right? But curiously, he didn’t feel like resisting Soundwave right now.

Soundwave just did that. But this time, he didn’t go ‘doggy style’ on Hot Rod; instead, he eased him up onto his side, back to the wall, and bended his knees a bit, installed himself behind him before cuddling with him a bit. Then he started making him love once again, eliciting soft gasps from Hot Rod. Optics still shuttered, he rocked with Soundwave’s every moves, and still called out for Springer, though more softly. “I… think I prefer this position,” he managed to say once, between two calls for his fellow Autobot. Soundwave noted the preference in a corner of his memory banks for further use.

Hot Rod continued to moan in pleasure and invoke Springer’s name. That’s it, until he overloaded for a second time, and the name that passed his lips wasn’t Springer anymore. “Soundwave!” he cried out before going lax. Soundwave stilled as he felt his fluids fill Hot Rod’s valve, and he looked at the back of his head for several breems before smiling slowly. Hot Rod didn’t seem to have noticed he had called out for another, but it was all right. Just hearing it once was rewarding enough for Soundwave.

Tenderly, he lowered his embrace, to have both his arms circle Hot Rod’s rounding abdomen and rubbed it. And to say such a little thing was bringing him so much: his Cassettes happier than they had been since the early stages of the war, and himself very sated and lying with a very sexy ‘bot. If it wasn’t the Well of Spark, it certainly came close to. Too bad the red and yellow ‘bot was an Autobot and had to be kept chained up; right now, Soundwave wouldn’t have minded getting cuddled back. In post-overload, he didn’t think Hot Rod would resist him. Speaking of the devil… Hot Rod shifted a bit and snuggled unconsciously against the blue mech, before going totally lax, falling in recharge, physically and emotionally drained. Soundwave imitated him soon afterward, but not before answering a private comm.

***

It was the feeling of cool air that woke him up. Cool air, and soft noises. And also, he felt an unexpected wetness along his upper chest. Hot Rod’s optics snapped open, and he jerked back violently, hitting Soundwave’s chest in the process, as he noticed Frenzy had attached himself to one of his bare pouches and was suckling. Hot Rod’s move forced him to disengage from the nub he had grasped and almost made him choke on what he was drinking, making him glare at Hot Rod.

“Hey! What was the big idea? I was eating here!” he asked indignantly.

“Wha… When…How did you enter?” sputtered Hot Rod. “No, never mind that! What did you think you were doing?”

“Nursing,” shrugged Frenzy. “What do you think it looked like? I do that often enough for you to be used to that.”

Hot Rod blushed. It was true enough, but… “Yeah… but not when I’m sleeping! I thought we had an agreement of sort, something like, ‘not to do anything if I’m not aware’, remember?” he squeaked, feeling very uncomfortable. He felt sore, and tired and disoriented, and the last thing he had expected to see when he came to his sense was one of the Cassettes feeding off him like that.

Frenzy crossed his arms over his chest. “Hey, I’d asked boss-bot if it was okay, and he said it was!”

Hot Rod’s optics widened. “He…? When… when did he say that?” he asked, feeling dread for some reason.

Frenzy shrugged. “When I came back. I’d commed him to ask if it was all right to come and get my snack before heading to a new work shift. Said I could, if I didn’t make too much fuss and tried not to wake you up – sorry ‘bout that, I guess. He sounded quite tired when I got him. And,” he smirked knowingly, “I can guess why now. Must have been one Pit of a good time for the two of you!”

Hot Rod blinked at him without understanding. But then, a sudden fear gripped him and he looked down at himself. What he saw made him feel almost physically sick. There were traces of half-dried transfluid and lubricant all down his thighs and legs, staining his plating. But that wasn’t the worst. After their last coupling, he had offlined quickly, before he felt Soundwave withdraw himself. He had thought the Cassettes’ holder had before he too succumbed to recharge, but no. Soundwave’s spike was still buried deep inside him.

“Oh Primus” he choked. What had he done? He wasn’t going to cry. No. He wasn’t going to…

A sob escaped him and he was unable to stop himself from shaking. His tanks were rolling and felt like purging. How could he had done that… could have betrayed Springer in such a way?

Frenzy patted him, clearly put out by his attitude. “Hey, hey, no need to be upset here! You just did… well, something perfectly normal. What is it that makes you feel so bad? I know interfacing must have been great, ‘cause Ravage passed by the door and said you two sounded like a very busy couple. Are you hurt? Soundwave never hurt his lovers if he can help it, so if you’re feeling sore, it certainly was an accident! Hey, Boss-bot was kind with you, wasn’t he? Because he better have been, you know, ‘cause we kinda like you, and that’s too bad if you didn’t like it because he acted like a jerk,” he blurted out.

Hot Rod looked at him without saying anything, trying to process what he heard and what had happened. “No,” he finally said, voice barely above a whisper, “he didn’t hurt me. It’s… I… It wasn’t supposed to be this way,” he finally managed to say. “I wasn’t supposed to betray Springer this way.”

Frenzy frowned. “Why would you want that idiot when you have the boss to take care of you?”

Hot Rod looked at him in the optics. “Because I love him.” Frenzy snorted. “Well, you have no taste. But can’t be helped, I guess, since you’re an Autobot. So, can I continue now?” he asked, hitting softly the pouch he had been suspended to previously.

Hot Rod looked at him, then risked a quick glance toward Soundwave’s immobile form behind him. He looked down again at his lower body, with the foreign spike still trapped in him, and at the two arms circling his waist and maintaining him firmly pinned against the blue mech. There was nothing he could do to disengage himself, not without waking Soundwave up. He could refuse Frenzy, arguing he was hardly in a good position to breastfeed him, that it wasn’t good for his back strut, but he had the feeling the argument wouldn’t be receivable; Frenzy was small enough to be able to lie comfortably against Hot Rod without falling from the berth, and small enough to be able to snuggle against him and Soundwave both to take what he considered a ‘healthy snack’. Should he refuse, Hot Rod guessed the Cassettes would make a ruckus and wake his master. And Hot Rod wasn’t sure he could face the Cassettes’ holder just yet.

So… Either refuse and have Soundwave waking up, or accept and let go of yet another piece of his dignity.

Hot Rod sighed and nodded slightly. Frenzy squealed in delight and latched immediately on the nub he had been forced to let go off. Hot Rod winced a bit as the Cassette suckled a bit too hard and bit him, perhaps as a revenge for having interrupted his meal previously.

It felt… weird to have Soundwave still inside him while his Cassette was nursing. Sandwiched between the two, after a while, Hot Rod was nearly lulled into recharge. The heat and the silence only broken by the gulps of Frenzy were helping him relax. Strangely enough, he found out he didn’t mind as much as he had thought the fact of nursing during interfacing… or in the aftermath of interfacing.

But his quiet and relaxed state of mind quickly decreased as he realized his systems were heating up. Again. Despite the two overloads he already had. Hot Rod felt his cheeks heating up in embarrassment. Gestational period was turning him into a nymphomaniac, wasn’t it?

“Soundwave: more than willing to assist,” he heard behind him.

Hot Rod glanced over his shoulder.

Soundwave was wide awake and smiling and his smile was definitely mischievous. Hot Rod gulped, but didn’t try to get away. Frenzy released the nub he was sucking on and chuckled. “Don’t worry ‘bout me; do as you have to.”

Soundwave didn’t have to be told twice.

Much later, they were both still sprawled on the berth. Laying behind him, broad chest pinned against Hot Rod’s back, Soundwave was holding one of the yellow and red mech’s leg lifted up to have a better access to his groin and was thrusting in and out of his valve at a steady, unhurried pace, making Hot Rod moan as each move stimulated his sensor net. His own spike was hard, bobbling through the air at the rhythm of each thrust, sometimes lightly caressed by Soundwave’s free hand, when it wasn’t firmly pressed against Hot Rod’s abdomen.

And through the love making, Frenzy, not perturbed the slightest, suckled Hot Rod’s full pouch with gusto.

**Author's Note:**

> Also posted here at my lj: http://yami-samuraiflo.livejournal.com/30880.html


End file.
